


There You Are, An Ocean Away

by CharlieDC



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Skype, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9358106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieDC/pseuds/CharlieDC
Summary: Prompt: “Ok bye, love y’all with all my sinful heart!”Very rarely, do they all get on the phone to talk to one another. Even more so, do they get moments like this.Jack intends to take advantage of moments like this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank my wife, Vicky, for giving me this prompt! Thank you honey, without you, the fifth thats about to ensue would never of happened.  
> (Translations at the end)

He was heading into the Haus with his phone to his ear, distant sounds of Lax bros in the background of his mind. Wind blew behind him, but it was wasn’t harsh enough for him to pull the collar up. The keys slid into the lock, but the jam was apparent; the locksmith needs to come by… again. So close to warmth and the comfort at his home at Samwell, Bitty finally shouldered the door open. He used excessive force, stumbling into the Haus with Nursey and Ransom sitting on the Disgusting Green Couch. Eric smiled at them, waved and headed into the kitchen, continuing his conversation. Seeing him speaking sweetly into his phone was grounds for fines, and they almost flipped over the couch to catch him. He almost bolted into the kitchen to get away from their wide eyes and dropped jaws, trying to outrun them.

“Oui, je viens de rentrer chez,” Eric said. His French was improving and the high sound that Jack made caused Bitty’s smile to widen more.

“You’ve been working on your French!” Kent yelled, because he is well versed enough to uphold conversational Quebecois. Something he picked up in the Q with Jack, something to try and connect with the two of them easier.

“Mon garçon sonne si bien!” Jack’s low tone made Bitty preen, more so than Kent exclaiming in his ear. Bitty pulled out a few baking sheets from the worn and warped wood of the cabinets; he promised Lardo that he would make some oatmeal cookies.

The three of them were on a call, waiting for Tater to get out of a meeting and back to their apartment. With Bitty at Samwell during school time and the three of them all over the place (Kent in Vegas and Jack and Alexei in Rhode Island) it’s so hard to sit down and talk to everyone in one period of time. This was a rare occasion, and all of them were happy that they could just be on the phone for this long with no interruptions. Just then, there was a pinging sound coming through the call; it was Alexei. The three of them read the text message saying that he could join their call.

One at a time, the three of them reacted in their own specific ways. Bitty squealed, Kent let out a happy sigh saying “About time” and Jack let out a small laugh, waiting for their fourth member to accompany them.

“Hello moya lyubit!” Tater’s boisterous voice echoed over the line, “I’ve missed you all very much.”

Bitty had to pull the phone away from his ear to keep the other three from hearing his squeal of pain. Once again, he got concerned looks from the living room. Ransom reached for the Sin Bin while squinting at Eric. He moved the phone in between his ear and shoulder, grabbing a can of pop from the fridge and peas from the freezer. He put the peas up to his eye and winced, but kept listening to Kent talk about his weekend. He decided that now would be a good time to go upstairs, so no one could listen on his phone calls. There’s plenty of time to work on Lardo’s cookies when he’s not suffering from boyfriend separation.

“How have you been darlin’?” A sweet southern intonation was in his voice, and Tater sighed with what seemed content.

“I’ve been missing you... and Kenny.” The sound of a car door opening and closing was heard from his end, “Jack not so much.”

“Hey!”

“I’m going to see you in fifteen minutes, tupitsa.” Tater laughed, gave indirect orders to an Uber driver to his location and was back on the phone, “When I see you, I’ll give you biggest kiss.”

“I’m holding you to that.” The smile in Jack’s voice was evident, and it hurt both Kent and Bitty’s hearts. Being separated was very difficult, especially at moments like these.

“I’m feeling left out here, guys.” Kent spoke, tentative while teasing. He approached the relationship like he approaches hockey: methodically and carefully.

The last thing Kent Parson wants to do is hurt these three. He can live with hurting himself, but not them. They don’t deserve that.

“We love you _Kenny_.” Jack chirped.

“Hey you know that nickname’s for Tater and Tater _alone_ , _Mr. Zimmermann._ ” Kent replied cheekily.

“That is copyrighted material, Parson; watch it.” Bitty bit into the phone, closing his bedroom door and kicking off his shoes. “I might have to fly my ass to Vegas to give you what for.”

“Promise?”

“Don’t you flirt with me, young man.” Eric laid back on his bed and closed his eyes, letting the moment wrap him up. His boys on the phone, the small smile on his face and the fast pace of his heart: all of it wrapped together was the best feeling.

If only they were here in person.

They kept the conversation flowing, going from person to person on what’s been happening lately. Bitty complains about his Psych class because his professor _is the actual worst_.

“Brooks?” Jack asks, and Bitty affirms with a groan, “Yeah I had her sophomore year. Bake her some of your snickerdoodles and you’ll get by, no doubt.”

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, are you suggesting I _bribe_ my professor?”

“Of course not,” Jack sounded as if he had his mouth full of food, and Bitty imagines him cracking open a tin of the food he sent Jack and Tater at the mention of his baking, “I’m simply saying your baking is so extraordinary that it’ll melt her cold, frozen heart.”

Tater and Kent let out boisterous laughs at the same time.

“Coming from the hockey robot himself.” Kent chirped.

Kent Parson, in the meantime, has been doing a lot of build up to some charity work. He’s been talking a lot with Royal Family Kids Camp, an organization that works with kids from abused families. He got really excited when his manager mentioned them when they were trying to decide, on a four way conference call, who he should choose.

“...and that’s when I take the mascot head off and reveal my final form.” The charity is working with the Aces to play a mascot game with some of the hockey fans at RFKC. Kent’s idea was to dress up and surprise the kids, which Tater instantly agreed with.

“Did you…” Jack laughs a little under his breath, “...just reference DBZ?”

“Oh my god someone put a dollar in the Jack Gets A Reference Jar.” Kent mocks surprise and Bitty laughs out loud, Tater mumbling something in Russian on the other end of the line.

“Shut up.”

Jack himself has been going over a lot of tape, surprisingly enough. He really wants his game to stay strong and if he’s not beating himself up over the little mistakes on tape, he’s at the rink fixing those mistakes. He even took a trip down to Samwell to practice with them for a day (it only drove Bitty a little nuts that he just showed up and played with them all sweaty and glistening, definitely made locker room time difficult).

Alexei surprised Kent in Vegas a few weeks ago, but now he’s back in Providence and has been hopping from meeting to meeting. It’s all about the World Cup next year and if he can play for Russia. So much controversy popped up about the Hockey World Cup with team Russia, because Russia had so many doping problems with the Olympics. It seems that the media can’t get their grubby hands off of a story like this. Tater, therefore, has been having to fend off reporter after reporter and attend meeting after meeting. He, Ovechkin and Kuznetsov have been at the heart of this whole debate, mocking a lot of the obnoxious interviewees in Russian.

“Hopefully the meetings slow down. I hate being away from boyfriends so much.” Alexei’s dismal tone made everyone’s heart sink. He cleared his throat, not wanting the feeling to linger, “Evgeny says he never wants sitting in leather chairs for as long as he alive. I don’t blame him.”

A small breeze of laughter filtered through the rough lines of the phone call. Silence swept over each of them as they waited for someone to say something.

“I hate this.” Bitty said.

“I know.” The three of them responded in unison like the unit they are. One voices concern and the other three fire back with ready comfort. It’s like the drawing tides to the shore; it comes in and out. It’s like shooting a puck and a rebound; back and forth. It’s like breathing; inhale and exhale.

Jack spoke next, “What if... we did something to remedy that?”

“What do you mean?” Kent asked, and he sat up straighter in his lounge chair in the living room. Kit purred next to him as Kent browsed Gucci snapbacks on the internet.

“I mean, like, a video call. I miss you guys so much and this whole apartment feels empty without you two here… maybe we could chat for a while and… um… maybe-”

Jack was cut off by the sound of a door opening and closing on his end and Tater’s end.

“Maybe what, Jack?” Kent’s anticipation was building.

Muffled sounds were heard on two different ends, and Tater’s was just a millisecond out of sync with Jack’s. A distant, _Hey babe, how was the meeting?_ and Tater’s less enthusiastic reply of _The worst meeting. I wish meetings not exist. I am tired…_

The conversation flowed like so for a few seconds while Kent and Bitty waited for Jack to get back on the phone. Tater’s call ended, and a loud sigh and _floof_ sound was heard on Jack’s line: Tater plopped down on the couch next to Jack.

“Hey guys, Tater’s here-” Jack _giggled_ , hockey prodigy Jack Zimmermann _giggled_ . “Ale- _stop!_ Oh my god!” His laughter made Bitty’s heart ache and Kent’s eyes water.

There was silence on all ends, except laughter from Tater and Jack. It was the worst and best, equally, because being away is so difficult, but hearing them is okay. Hearing them helps, most of the time. At least they know they’re okay.

“Fuck.” Kent whispered, and tears were falling and he let out a small, desperate sob.

“You too?” Bitty asked, wiping tears away that fell from his cheeks onto the comforter he was still laying on.

“I miss you, Bits.” He closed his fist and breathed slow to try and get a hold of himself, but it didn’t help.

“I miss you too, darlin’, so much.”

Jack and Tater barely caught the end of that conversation, putting both of them on speaker. Tater had an arm resting behind Jack, who was leaning into his side with his legs spread out on the other end of the couch. Jack’s back was molded into Tater’s left side, the phone resting between them.

“You guys okay?” Jack asked, sensing the tension.

“We miss you guys so fucking much it’s really unfair, man.” Kent replied, a sharp tone to his voice. Emphasis on the fact that this week, this month, has been so hard without them.

Jack smiled, “Well I might be able to fix that.”

Tater raised an eyebrow, “Is that what you were talking about earlier, Jack?” When Jack nodded Tater laughed, “I think they will like.”

There’s a crackling sound on the line; it’s Jack’s breathy laugh. “I hope so.”

“Like what, what are we liking?” Bitty sat up in his bed, “If this is another one of those documentary things then I’m driving to Providence and punching _both of you._ ”

“Easy, Bittle!” Jack laughed and opened up his laptop in front of him on the coffee table.

The next thing Jack said made Bitty and Kent smile instantly,

“Get on Skype.”

They were all logged on in a matter of minutes, starting a video call for the Skype group _boston student dates 3 nhl players_ (named by none other than Kent Parson, Jack was very lost. Tater got the joke instantly, surprisingly. Eric didn’t notice for four days). They each said their hellos and Jack smiled at the two of them on his screen, smiling back at he and Alexei on the couch.

“My boys…” Eric sighed. His fingertips brushed the screen and for the softest, dearest of moments, they were all there. They were squished together on his bed in weird positions, smelling each person’s musk and wrapping limbs around one another. Hair unruly and sticking out, normally in someone’s face or under their nose. Arms falling asleep from the weight on top of them. Someone (Kent) down to his boxers because “it’s too hot and someone needs to put the goddamn fan on”.

“Bitty… what happened to your face!?” Jack asks. Alexei and Kent lean in at the same time to examine Pixel Eric in more detail. Pixel Eric, in return, scoots farther back from the camera to keep himself discreet.

“It’s a… um…” he mumbles the rest of the sentence and Jack has to prompt him again. “It’s just a hint of a black eye-” the notion that the three of them would erupt in objection was evident, so Eric steamrolled on, “-and before y’all say anything I want to explain what happened.”

The three of them relaxed, just a hair.

“It was that game last week when we beat Harvard. I went in to assist Ransom and… well the important part is we got the point.”

“Bits.”

“Okay…” he sighed and lifted his hand to touch his cheek, “I got high sticked by a D-men.”

“You got Burnzie’d?!” Kent exclaimed, “Jesus it’s like these fuckers in college are acting like pros out there. Next time you play Harvard I’m flying my ass out there and I’ll show them how to _really_ high stick someone-”

“Excuse you, Kenny, but you’re size of twig. I will hurt college boys and show them how to play real hockey.”

“How about we all just show up and look extremely intimidating.”

“How about _none_ of you show up and keep the illusion alive that none of us are secretly dating?” Bitty suggested.

It got very quiet after that.

“Right.” Jack had a stony resolve, and Tater bumped his knee and wrapped an arm around him. He pulled him close, the soft smell of their detergent and Alexei’s strange (but nevertheless redolent) cologne made Jack’s heart settle comfortably.

“What was your idea, Jack?” Kent’s background changed, because now he’s flopping down onto his giant couch. He’s got a tank top on, even though he keeps the apartment below 60 constantly. His snapback is backwards, like it always is, and it’s the one Bitty got him from the Samwell gift shop. The maroon contrasts with his blond well and it causes Bitty’s stomach to flutter a little at the sight of it.

“Okay.” Jack looks conflicted, like he’s nervous. It’s a bit strange, because Jack is now _very_ comfortable with all of them (especially Kent, which was a small problem at first). The comforting nudge Tater gave him was grounding, so he continued.

“Take your shirts off.”

They both kind of stared blankly at the screen until Kent shrugged and started to strip. The smooth muscle and tattoos (one on his ribs of the Cup and his mother’s name above his heart) made Bitty sigh. It wasn’t until Kent was smiling (and fucking blushing; _God_ he is adorable) back at the screen that Eric realized Alexei and Jack have the same bewitched looks on their faces.

“See something you like, boys?” He sat up straighter at the attention and totally obviously flexed, like even though he’s a pixel person, anyone with a set of eyes could see the tight movement of his chest and biceps and…

...and Bitty is starting to sport one. Lovely. He’s not even _there_ , no one’s even _done anything_ , - save the flirting ft. naked torso - and he’s half hard? What’s become of Eric R. Bittle?

“Bitty?” Jack’s asking him, and there’s a slight concern in his voice. It’s a slight concern Eric takes to heart and makes him weak, because he’s not there to smooth the small bit of worry out on his face and he can’t kiss it away. He can’t let Jack hold him, he can’t make out with Kent in the kitchen and snuggle with Alexei as they watch Russian soap operas.

And Jack want’s to give him this moment, because they can all tell where this is going, but…

“Sweetheart,” Eric smiles down at his folded hands in his lap, “I’m… I don’t know…”

“What is problem?” Alexei asks and the concern in _his_ voice doubles Jack’s and makes Eric want to cry at just that, because _dear Lord_ does he miss all of them. It’s like they’re worlds apart, and only a short video call is their only connection to one another. It’s an arm and a leg to get all of them on the phone at once and even more of a miracle for a moment like this.

Eric’s steepled hands rest under his chin, “I have Hausmates.” He says blankly.

Jack laughs, “I see.” He leans back on the couch and spreads his legs, enough to draw Bitty’s attention, and stretches his arms behind his head, where his shirt lifts up enough to show his navel, and it makes everyone’s mouth water.

“Jesus _Christ_.” Kent whispers, “That’s illegal; you can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Oh shut your mouth you know _what_ , Mister.” Eric smiles, and glances at the door. He looks back to a shirtless Kent Parson, a sinful Jack Zimmermann and an Alexei Mashkov barely holding on.

“Gimme a sec.” He got up from his bed and went out the door. He swore he could hear Jack laugh on the other end, and he know that Jack’s teasing is going to end the second he gets back.

Because he gets back shirtless. He gets a chorus of whistles and hollers from his men on his screen and Bitty feels his face heat. His door is locked; he should be good. Most everyone is out of the Haus for a while, save for Ransom and Nursey, but they’re not going to kick down his door and bug him. When he focuses back on the screen, both Tater and Jack are shirtless and Kent has the hungriest eyes. He licks his lips and Jack leans in to nibble at the stubble on Tater’s jaw. A small shift on the bed is all it takes for Eric to realize how much the simple action makes him half hard. He clears his throat, but Jack just keeps going.

“Christ, Jack, if you wanted to put on a show just say something.” Kent’s voice is hoarse. Good _god._

Jack makes a move to straddle Tater’s legs, to pliantly sit in his lap and maybe grind some but Alexei is quick. He skillfully lays Jack out underneath him, shifting his weight to the right and laying him on his back. Tater crawls over him like a predator and sucks at his neck. Jack lets out a low, choked moan and it just challenges Tater to bite, to angle his head better. He scrapes his teeth across the intersection of Jack’s neck and shoulder, humming out a small moan himself.

Eric looks back down at the predicament in his pants, only for a second so as not to miss the masterpiece in front of him, and he sees the tent. He’s fucked. He’s so royally fucked by these boys that he can’t think past how hard he’s getting. Looking back up at the screen, his mind literally goes blank at the sight of Jack and Alexei sharing a tender kiss and Kent obviously taking advantage of the romantic porn happening. His shoulders are reddening, the gorgeous color they turn when he’s beyond hard; Eric can feel his cock swell in his pants and he lets out a low whine.

Kent looks at (what he presumes) is his portion of the Skype screen, mouth hanging open. Eric can tell, from the dim light of his laptop screen, that his iris’ are shrinking bit by bit as he continues to watch and listen to what is happening. Seeing Jack and Alexei kiss, hearing Eric moan; it’s a straight line to his dick and he has a solid grip on himself, but _it’s not the same._

So he looks at Eric’s face, a face that is straining to please himself. A hesitation, because Kent knows he has housemates and he can’t really be loud and bold like he loves to - take charge and demand like he _adores_. He has to be quiet, substitute for biting his fist and bucking his hips, because he can only give himself so much:

Because it’s _not the same._

Because they’re miles or days away from each other, and a Skype call like this is a blue moon type situation. While Kent wants to express the melancholy of separation, he’d really rather take advantage of the situation and give himself the best handy while watching live action porn.

“Bits,” he breathes out and Eric snaps to attention, “Bits let me see you.”

Eric blushes deeper, and brings a hand up his chest to feel himself a little bit. A hand brushes over his chest and rests on his shoulder, fingers tangling with the short, soft hairs at his nape. He bites his lip and sneaks a hand below his waistband - he heavily contemplates going full fledged nude, but that’s a bit dicey. The pants fall to the floor, but he’s still clad in boxers. He shifts the covers down a bit for some extra insurance.

Bitty moves his camera further down the bed and lets the camera encapsulate his full torso, the angle giving the sneaking impression that he’s got a fistful of his own cock, - which he does by now - showing the tasteful top of elastic.

“Yeah, Bits-” Jack sounds breathy. Eric lives for it and knocks his head back, letting out a soft throaty sound.

“ _Fuck, Bits.”_

Eric bucks up into his own fist, showing the camera a flash of his blue boxers; he’s a goddamn act of God, the way his back curves (they can’t see it from this angle, _but they know._ The way he bows and bends. How flexible and malleable he is when he wants to be). His mouth’s hanging open and the length of his throat, with a hint of a hickey from his short visit to Providence. The sheets are starting to dishevel beneath him as he writhes in his own grasp, hearing moans and grunts from the low volume of the speakers. Bitty opens his eyes and sees Kent, leaning back with his legs spread open wide on the couch in his Vegas apartment. The head of his cock is red and leaking; he’s fucking himself into his own fist. The piercing look his eyes are giving Bitty makes his cock pulse; the hungry and erotic attention makes him hot all over. Jack and Tater are basically giving each other a show while multitasking as they glance over at the screen every few seconds.

Jack has his right hand on Tater’s heavy, hard dick, pumping it slowly with the twist at the top he loves. Beneath him, he has one hand on the back of his neck and he’s sucking on his lower lip. It’s goddamn amateur porn, the way Tater grinds down on top of him into his fist. The grunts and sighs that come from their end is wholly sinful. Alexei has his huge hands braced on either side of Jack’s face on the cushions as he basically push-ups down to kiss him ferociously. He breaks away, muttering in Russian and English to Jack, but loud enough for Kent and Bitty to hear. Begging him to keep going, talking about the sounds and sights; if Eric closes his eyes it’s like he’s in the living room with them. Like he could be sucking Jack off and Kent is breathing down his neck and running his hands along his back.

Like he’s not alone in his bedroom at Samwell, fucking into a tight fist while he listens and watches, craving the feel of a cock inside him. Craving the touch of hands and tongues and grips on every inch of his body.

He whines into the dimness of his room, a soft whimper of _goddammit_ that he lets loose. Jack grunts and Kent starts speaking to him, low and filthy to edge him on.

“Show me some more, Bits, c’mon.” He says in the quiet of his apartment, reaching through the screen and making Eric’s skin prick.

“Pull your cock out, baby, I wanna see it.” And Eric opens his eyes to see the state Kent is in and he damn near comes right there.

He’s flushed; every inch of his body is red. Assessing the state of his boyfriend Eric takes note of his heaving chest, the blown pupils and the long, slick curve of his cock. Somewhere throughout the call he ditched his sweats, and now he’s there, barely functioning with his cock out.

Bare for anyone to just gingerly walk into Eric’s room and see him, and it kind of turns Eric on. The suspense of jerking off with Kent Parson while _no one knows_ except them - it sneaks under Eric’s skin and sends electricity down to his cock and in his gut. It’s a surefire turn on, and Bitty moans.

He moans low, deep, _and loud._

“Christ, Bits, you might get caught.” Jack says, and now his dick is in his own hand and Alexei is sucking hickeys onto his neck.

“Good.” Eric says and - oh my god.

Kent comes with a shout, the rapid fire speed of his fist on his cock increasing as he rides out his climax. He slumps back against the couch and lets his head rest back against the cushions.

He’s tapped out for the time being.

“Jesus fuck you can’t just _say those things,_ Eric, good lord.” Kent breathes out after a few beats. Taking a long look at the action on the screen he sees Alexei close to coming and leans in close to the camera to say unmentionable actions. He tells Jack to touch him like Kent would touch him, and he talks in a deeply arousing voice.

“-inside me all day, baby, that’s what I want-”

“Kenny!” Tater bucks and bucks and gives out as he comes with a broken, choked off sound. Jack has his free hand stroking up and down his back, slowly kissing and jerking him through it. He whispers in French to him, while leaning Tater up into a sitting position so he’s not close to collapsing on top of Jack. He litters him with soft kisses all over his face as Alexei comes down from the high. Tater still has a firm grip on Jack’s cock and side-eyes the camera, the sight of Eric pumping himself in earnest all the invitation he needs to continue. Jack sits upright as well, warm and horny next to Alexei, a firm security to lean against. He leans back against the back of the couch a little, smirking at Bitty on the screen.

“Just you and me, Bittle.” Jack says, opening his legs more when he sees Eric’s eyes lock on him.

“You gonna talk dirty to me, Mr. Zimmermann?” Bitty asks, getting comfortable while spreading his legs. Wide. Jack doesn’t respond, just leaves his mouth open to water and Alexei huffs a laugh into his neck.

The hot breath mixes with the cold contrast of the sweat there and Jack brings Alexei up to kiss him. He moves his hips up in time with Alexei’s pulls and the sweat shines on his abs as he does so, speaking French and groaning.

Eric is mesmerized, and Kent leans into his camera to watch how this whole thing is going to turn out. Bitty moves his free hand down to feel over his nipples and thighs, touching every inch of skin he wishes _someone else_ could touch instead. Someone else that was equally blond, or someone tall and Canadian or _someone tall and Russian and built like a fucking tank._

Someone fist fucking the other over a Skype call or someone leisurely stroking his cock back to life in Vegas.

“Christ I need one of you here to fuck me right now-”

“On it.” Kent says and scoots closer to the camera, smiling and laughing when Bitty chirps him about teasing. Bitty moves himself closer to the camera, too. He pushes back the laptop to get some of his torso; deeply flushed pecs with puckered nipples. He gets the perfect angle of his cock, leaking heavily and jerked with passion. He smiles at the change of expression on each of their faces.

“ _Bits-”_ Tater whines into the junction of Jack’s neck, eyes locked on Eric.

“Yeah, baby?” Eric sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

“O moy _grebanyy bog_.” He groans out. Now tired of taking his time with Jack’s cock, he goes into double time with his speed and pulls out his other hand to play with Jack’s balls to get him to come all over his fist.

Leaning into Jack’s ear, he whispers “I want to fuck you here - on couch.” Jack cries out as Alexei gives his balls a squeeze.

“What did you say, Alexei?” Kent asks, playing with himself just because he can. He’s spent, but there’s no shame in touching yourself just to touch yourself.

“I want to fuck him. On couch. Now.”

“Do it.” Eric’s low, rough and wrecked voice drawls. Right there, on the couch, at 8:42 at night, Jack comes on the pristine suede he so meticulously debated over purchasing. The come shoots up his chest, while also dribbling all over Alexei’s fist. Alexei felt the tight clench of Jack’s balls in his hand before he came and the look on his face, eyes screwed shut and throat barred, was an image he would never forget. He and the other two moaning and groaning because of that image.

All they have to do now is get Eric to come and they’re golden.

Jack regains his senses, swears in French and trains his eyes back on Eric, who is half leaning against his headboards. His hips are in the air, cock out, blurred by the movement of his fist. Jack swallows, rubbing his hands over his thighs, ready to verbally wreck him. Alexei gets up to grab a washcloth to take care of their damage, Kent now leaning back against the couch with a soft smile on his face as he watches Eric.

“Bitty… you look fucking gorgeous right now.” Jack says, just short of a whisper and Eric breathes out a soft, quiet whimper. “I could just slide right into you and fuck you senseless.”

“Not if I get there first.” Kent says, leaning in closer to the mic. “Slide right in and let you ride me until you pass out. Then I’d take care of you, baby-”

“Bitty?”

They all stop, rigid. Eric drops his hips to the bed and sits up; face turned towards the door. He’s red all over, cock ready to burst with how purple it is at the head. Come drops down it as he still slowly strokes himself, but calls back out to the sound.

“Yeah?” His voice is a bit rough, and _god_ if that doesn’t do something to the three of them listening in. He clears it again and says stronger, “What?”

“Hey can we come in, we need some help to settle an argument-”

“It’s not an _argument_ , it’s a debate-”

“-Dex _shut up;_ call it what it is-”

“-oh my god you can’t even settle with it being called an argument. Not everything is super chill all the time, Tommy Chong-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know what I mean by that, genius boy-”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Eric yells, and they both go silent on the other side of his door. He sighs, bringing a hand up to facepalm and groan.

“Go bug Holster with this because _I don’t have time-_ ”

“But, Bits, you’re our go-to on this topic-”

“NOT TONIGHT, DEREK NURSE, NOW GO BUG HOLSTER OR I SWEAR TO GOD.”

There’s a scurry of footsteps away from Bitty’s door and he flops back onto the bed. It’s quiet for a few beats; muffled music plays from downstairs and Eric prays no one is trying to cook right now. He hears cars drive by outside his window and then he remembers he’s no longer achingly hard.

“Well that’s a mood kill.” He says and Kent lets out a hilariously loud laugh. It brings Bitty back to their reality of a pornographic Skype call. He sits back up and brings the laptop closer, getting a good look at them.

“Everything okay over there, Bits?” Jack asks, that cocky smile on his face and Eric wants to kiss it off him until he’s breathless.

“I’m afraid my favorite D-pair just killed my hard-on, sweetheart.” Eric frowns, but it’s all for emphasis because he’s quickly back to smiling when he hears the laughs of his boyfriends.

“I think we help, Bitty.” Alexei smiles and tells him, in Russian, to lay back down.


	2. Continued Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add this as an afterthought. Enjoy!

For the rest of the night, no one knocks on Bitty’s door. No one dares step near his room, unless they want to hear the most unabashed, unashamed whining, moaning and yelling that ever happened within the Haus walls. Chowder spends the night in Farmer’s dorm, Holster and Ransom crashed downstairs and Lardo was probably in the confines of her studio. 

For the rest of the night Bitty heard the sweet sounds of his boyfriends coaxing him into coming so hard his vision went blurred and he had to open the window to stick his head out to regain his senses. He laid back on his bed with sweats on and a freshly washed chest after they all, respectively, cleaned themselves up.

Jack and Alexei were shoulder-to-shoulder on the giant bed they all shared, when Eric flopped back down onto his bed. Kent was out of shot, but not inaudible. He was singing, and it was the small things like this that Eric treasured. The post-orgasm faces of 2/3s of their quartet, Kent distantly singing Hozier in his kitchen and Eric cuddling up with Señior Bun for the night.

“Wish we could Skype like this all the time.” Eric manages through a yawn.

“Wish you were here so we didn’t have to.” Jack says and Alexei pulls him onto his chest. He repositions the camera so they can see the profile, Jack splayed and curling around Alexei’s chest. Alexei wraps his arms around him and kisses his head. They’re shirtless with their hair still wet from the shower, both smiling. Kent comes back into view and picks his laptop up to take with him to his bed, a cup of tea in his hand.

“And I wish Eric didn’t live with like… fifteen other people, but hey, it makes life more interesting.” Kent smiles as he settles into bed.

“Hey, mister, you don’t have to receive all the chirps tomorrow.” He frowns and wipes a hand over his face, takes a glance at his phone and opts on not checking it for the rest of the night. It’s around eleven and he’s really feeling the pull of sleep on his bones and muscles.

“You direct them my way, I’ll take care of them.” Kent responds, and Alexei affirms as well.

“Anyone have problem, they give me or Kenny call.”

“What about Jack?”

Jack laughs, even though he looked tired and sleepy on Tater’s chest, he reopens his eyes to smile at the camera.

“I’ve gotten enough chirps from those fuckers for a lifetime; you guys can take the heat.” Jack then presses a kiss into Alexei’s shoulder and drifts off to sleep.

Come morning, the Skype call would still be going on, Kent waking first. Bitty would wake up due to him, smile, and whisper good morning as he starts his day. He drifted back to sleep as Kent exited out of the call; then followed by Jack and Tater. One by one, they greeted the day with a smile and a sweet  _ good morning _ to one another. 

Eric faced his day with many post-its on his door of quotes each boyfriend said last night accompanied with whip creamed X’s and O’s on the mirror of the bathroom. Walking downstairs, he sees the group of them crowded in the kitchen while nursing cups of coffee.

“Good night, Bits?” Ransom asks, while Holster follows up with “Deets, loverboy!”

“Better night than you boys.” He snags a piece of toast, butters it, and munches. “Gettin’ off ain’t a crime, gentlemen, but I dunno the particular by-laws on listening into my Skype calls.” 

He winks, laughs, and jogs back upstairs to plan his next weekend in Providence.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations!  
> Oui, je viens de rentrer chez = Yeah, I just got home  
> Mon garçon sonne si bien! = My boy sounds so good!  
> Moya lyubit = my loves!  
> Tupitsa = dumbass.  
> O moy grebanyy bog = Oh my fucking god.


End file.
